Johnny Cash’s figurative return from the literal grave today is a welcome addition to the barren wasteland that is modern country music. Despite receiving NO airplay from Corporate Country radio, Johnny’s six albums for American Recordings stand as one of the high points in the history of American music.
Although I loved “Hundred Highways,” “Ain’t No Grave” is Johnny’s true epitaph. Somehow his voice, weakened by age, sickness and sorrow, sounds all the stronger for the misfortunes it’s endured. Johnny knows the grave awaits and he welcomes it. The hand of death on Johnny’s shoulder is not the icy grip of the reaper but the loving touch of June.
The only negative thing I can say about “American VI: Ain’t no Grave” is that it’s the final installment of Johnny’s brilliance. We can only pray that there are some undiscovered gems hiding somewhere in Rick Rubin’s vault (or beard for that matter).
